


The Provincial Lady Goes Online

by Ankaret



Category: Provincial Lady - Delafield
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-13
Updated: 2009-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankaret/pseuds/Ankaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Provincial Lady discovers the Internet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Provincial Lady Goes Online

16 August

Decide that morning _must_ be devoted to answering letters, but am interrupted once by Cook, saying the tapioca _won't do_, mum, and how about Semolina instead (think of Robert's predictable response to Semolina, and then of his reaction to things that Cook has served up under title of Tapioca in the past, and weakly say, Whatever she thinks Best); once by the Fish, who has come to the back door with a demand for four and sixpence, and once by Vicky and Mademoiselle, who are very gay and confidential in the drawing-room. (Know from experience that this Will Not Last)

Ask Vicky kindly what she is about, and have visions of composing small article for Time and Tide on What our Children Do All Day. She says that It is the Internet, mummie, and will I pay at once for the Virus Protection. (Query: what is Virus Protection? Fall prey to fear that this is something every other woman of my age knows, and then think Nonsense, Viruses undoubtedly as much of a mystery to Lady Boxe as the Medes and Persians). I look at Mademoiselle, but she merely flings her hands in the air and says _Ah, hélas!_, which I do not consider a contribution to the discussion.

I do pay, and will definitely have to put off until next month any thought of a new hat.

18 August.

Robert looks thoughtfully at me at breakfast. Think he is about to pronounce on the Bull, which I do not find myself equal to as a topic of breakfast-time discussion, but he instead says that I look Tired, and what about a new hat?

Am fortunately prevented from explaining about Mademoiselle, Vicky and the Internet, by Helen Wills who comes in at the window. Do not in any case think that any such explanation would have been a success.

22 August

Robin returns from school-friends very brown, but with nose absolutely peeling, and all clothes in state of absolute squalor except for pristine pair of shorts, three sizes too big. Shrink from sending telegram to friend's mother about this, tell myself telegram would be Unwarranted Expense in any case, and package up shorts in brown paper parcel instead.

Realise once parcel is tied up (and sealed enthusiastically by Vicky with all the sealing-wax in the house) that Robin's visit was curtailed due to _déménagement_ of entire family for three weeks at least to friends in Devon, and that I do not know friends in Devon's address.

Leave parcel in cupboard under the back-stairs, and resolve to post it in three weeks time. Look for small note-book to write down note to this effect, and find Vicky and Robin in fits of vulgar laughter on the back-stairs saying that Mademoiselle has A Man, who she has found on the Internet.

Cook emerges from kitchen to join in this discussion, and we all talk merrily about The Man, who apparently resides in Texas (Query: where in Texas? Have idea that it is all desert except for city of Houston, but this clearly untrue. Also, all possible spellings of Houston look wrong, and can only be relieved that at least I do not have to write it on a parcel) until Jessie comes down the stairs and looks astonished, and brings us all to our senses. Jessie says severely that It is the Vicar's Wife at the door. Can see plainly that this is not what Jessie is used to, and that she will probably give notice.

25 August

Jessie gives notice.

7 September

No hope of a replacement for Jessie.

14 September

Our Vicar's Wife knows of a girl who may _do_, but says after some thought that she moved to _Finland_, and we agree that this is No Use and part with mutual assurances that we will tell each other at once When We Know Anything. Have no intention of doing any such thing.

Robin informs me that Maids can be Found All Over The Internet, he has Seen them. Consider this fanciful, and send him kindly off to practice on the piano instead.

18 September

Robert elects to clean out the cupboard under the stairs directly after church (great waste of time, as Jessie turned it out thoroughly before her departure) and says officiously, What is this Parcel. I explain about the shorts, and he says shortly that parents and friends in Devon are All Damn Fools, which I consider uncharitable. He also says What is that Noise? about Robin playing the piano, and expresses the view that Extra Music is Pointless.

20 September

Mademoiselle appears to have a cold. Can see that it will run through the household in short order, and look out handkerchiefs, which all seem to have gone at once to the Laundry. Attempt to interest Vicky in game of Hunt the Handkerchief as suggested by idiotic article on How to be a Really _Young_ Mother in Women's Magazine, but she says brassily that it is not a cold at all but The Man. According to Vicky, who seems to know all about it, he is not a man at all but a Lady (feel I should correct dear Vicky's use of language here, but am not certain to what) and living in Aberdeen.

Am quite unable to deal with any of this, and lose my head to the extent of asking how Mademoiselle _knows_ this, and Vicky says that Robin did something clever involving an ISP. Do not know what an ISP is, but think it is something to do with stocks and shares, which have never understood, and do not feel that explanation from dear Robin would enlighten me.

Am haunted all day by parallels between this case and that of insufferable house-parlourman Howard Fitzsimmons, and am sure it all _Means_ something, but cannot quite think what.

22 September

Mademoiselle continues lachrymose. Suggest trip to the seaside, but Mademoiselle screams _Ah, ça, jamais_, wraps her head in a piece of purple muslin which I have never seen before or since, and takes Vicky for a Walk. Vicky comes back and says that Mademoiselle has said that in England it is always _le bucket-and-spade, n'est-ce-pas?_ and that we do not understand _les émotions_. Am not sure whether these are the emotions or something worse, and am attempting to turn Vicky's thoughts in more wholesome direction when Robert comes in, says What is for dinner, and makes ribald reference to _The Well Of Loneliness_. (Query: Does not dear Robert perhaps understand more about day-to-day business of the household than one has been led to expect?)

Robin's school-friend's mother writes from Yorkshire (why not Devon? Could Devon have been mistake or figment of my imagination all along, like Aberdeen confused with Texas?) enquiring about pair of Boy's Shorts, in brown ink, and tone that suggests she thinks we have stolen them.

28 September

Large and perfectly unfamiliar Van draws up with head of sardonic-looking Horse poking out at the back. Do not like horses and am afraid of them, but feel it my duty to go out anyway and ask if he is Lost, has he mistaken our home for that of Lady Boxe? (Cannot imagine this happening to anyone except Tuareg Nomad who is perfectly unfamiliar with any house at all, but nevertheless find mind dwelling on it with wholly unwarranted pleasure for remainder of the afternoon)

No, he says, he has come to deliver the Pony, and will I lead it out or shall he?

No, I shall not. We have not arranged to buy a Pony and have no place for one. Am just engaging in rather good stream of rhetoric to this effect when wind is taken out of my sails by unsympathetic Invoice pushed under my nose by driver of Van, who has moustaches, and by arrival of Vicky exclaiming ecstatically Oh, is _that_ Merrylegs, he is exactly what she Always Wanted.

Have no very clear idea of how Merrylegs has been added to the household, but apparently the Internet was involved. M.legs is now eating carrots on the tennis-court with Vicky and Robin in worshipful attendance. Robin comes in to ask for cube-sugar (commodity apparently impossible to get in the country) and leans winningly against hall-table, saying Can he have a new pony too, it is only Fair.

Cannot imagine how I shall explain any of it to Robert.


End file.
